Ah yes, the last couple of days. I've done some good work over the course of the last forty-eight hours.
You know, because I rule and stuff.
July 8, 2008
Holy shit! That's the second dazed & confused mullet I've seen in the past two minutes. That leads me to believe one thing…
THE MULLETS ARE INVADING! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!
Ten minutes from Town Hall to North Sydney? The trains must be sharing tracks or something.
And one of the doors on the carriage next to me won't close. I bet that makes the passengers feel safe.
July 9, 2008
You blonde bitch. You don't go jumping out in front of someone when they're trying to get off of the bus because you can squeeze your anorexic frame through the five centimetre gap that exists between the next seat and my jacket.
Geeze, eat something will you?
Why do people stop walking on the right-hand side of escalators? If you don't want to walk keep left, bitches.
Now that I'm settled on the Bondi train and I'm later than usual, I feel I should reflect on just why I'm later than usual today: my stomach.
My stomach is probably one of the more irritating organs I have.
Will it be sick? Won't it? Could it beat The Stig around a lap of the Top Gear circuit?
No one bloody knows, least of all me.
I suppose if I went to a doctor, they'd be able to confirm a genetic illness stricken to my stomach that's been passed onto me from relatives lost and far away.
But then I'd have a medical reason, and that would be less fun than blaming the shockingly kept bathrooms in the building we work in and my Dad's experimental cooking patterns which lately are very much resembling the final rap in the Sugar Hill Gang classic "Rapper's Delight."
On the train to St. Leonards.
This carriage smells like vanilla malted milk.
Perhaps this is the first sign of death. Or an obsession with dairy cows.
Or perhaps someone has some sort of vanilla milkshake.
I've got to stop with this cavalier pompous attitude I occasionally have in public at tech shops.
It makes me seem like such an ass… and that's not something I want.
Damn. I won't be getting to work before Ray leaves. He won't be able to see my office Rubik's cube replacement.
Mmm… Overly-complicated. *drool*
I got there via the stairs and got to the exit as Ray was leaving.
So he HAD to see my Tetris Cube before he left.
And I just proved my last time-indexed blog wrong.
I give the universe permission to explode now.